


Smell

by Fic_Request_Blog



Series: Star Trek Drabbles [16]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Cuddling, Cute, Drabble, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Senses, nothing happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:36:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9461300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fic_Request_Blog/pseuds/Fic_Request_Blog
Summary: Prompt: But on the topic of Spock with heightened smell, also like imagine away missions gone wrong where Spock and Jim have to spend the night in a cave or share body heat. Spock being so close that Jim’s scent starts to transfer onto his clothes,…





	1. Chapter 1

He breathes in and it is like spring at the Academy. Jim smells like the cheer of songbirds, like the warmth of a bright sun, yellow and gold flashing across his mind. These are not smells, Spock tells himself. They do not make sense.

Yet, as he drags in another breath, a clear sky spreads over his thoughts, the feeling of fresh-cut grass tingling up his fingers and spreading into his hands.

He can pick out specific smells such as the tang of oil from engineering staining Jim’s hands, the fresh scent of citrus aftershave flitting in and out of his grasp. He can dissect the smell of mimosa from the botany lab, sweet and soft, and the gentle curl of Jim’s own musk, calm but strong, from his captain’s being.

He has smelled all of them individually before, but together they are blossoms drifting on a cool breeze, laughter bubbling through his veins.

They are Jim. This is Jim.

Another draw upon his lungs and Spock fits himself more fully against the human next to him and smiles.  



	2. Sequel to Smell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for a sequel to Smell. It's just as short and sweet.

Spock wakes slowly, fingers curling into warm cloth. He doesn’t open his eyes, not yet, preferring to press his nose into the skin brushing against his lips. 

Calm nights of intriguing conversation and chess dance across his thoughts, soft smiles and bright blue eyes flitting in and out of the pictures. Spock slides his right hand up to the steady beat in Jim’s chest, flattening his palm as he breathes along with the human pressed fully against his front.

The beat is slower than his Vulcan heart, but no less comforting, no less like home. Steady, like the mind embracing his own, soft and welcoming in sleep. There are no worries, no fear, just being. Jim is a sunray to lay in, radiant and golden.

The cool stone beneath them is offset by the temperate air around them, already beginning to heat as day emerges. It will soon be too hot to lay together. The human will soon wake in discomfort.

But for now, while the cave remains tranquil, Spock is content to hold Jim against him, to breath in his essence. He is content to smooth delicate kisses into equally delicate skin. He is content to be.


End file.
